


By Fate I Am Yours

by jo-ismyqueen (lanaismyqueen)



Series: The Sisters Black [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-08-06
Updated: 2015-08-10
Packaged: 2018-04-13 07:30:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,488
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4513239
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lanaismyqueen/pseuds/jo-ismyqueen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"As he thought back on the past that they had shared and the struggles that they had overcome to reach where they were, Lucius Malfoy realized for the first time that this moment—and all that had led to this moment—had less to do with a decision that Abraxas Malfoy and Cygnus Black had made when he and Narcissa were seven and more to do with fate. </p><p>It was decided that they would be married; it was destined that they would fall in love."</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

**1\. Prologue**

“Narcissa!”

He ran as fast as his feet could carry him, but it was too late. He could feel his heart in his chest as he burst into the room, and as he took in the sight in front of him, he felt it sink to the ground.

“I’m sorry, Lucius, but you’re too late. She’s gone.”

He heard the words, but they were dulled somehow, as if the voice was coming to him through a tunnel and not from the figure mere yards away from him. His feet moved him across the room on their own accord, but everything seemed to move in slow motion as the bed drew nearer. He sank down on the edge and reached out his hand, as if his touch could bring her back. His hands came back to him, empty, just as his heart now felt. 

Lucius’ head sank onto the blankets below him, oblivious to the figure still standing near the door, uncaring for once of the weakness his actions showed. He inhaled slowly; he could still smell her scent lingering. He wondered if it would be there long after her body was gone, never to again touch the fabric. 

As Lucius continued to inhale his wife’s scent, he was overcome with memories and emotions. She had always smelled like this, for as long as he could remember, though now he couldn’t remember when he had first recognized it as hers—or when he had understood the significance of it. Was it during their sixth year, when the amortentia that he had brewed in potions class smelled exactly like this? Or was it during that fateful argument, when he had kissed her impulsively and realized that he liked it? Maybe it was after that, their first morning as husband and wife, when he had awoken to her wrapped around him, her gentle breath pushing her body against him as he inhaled the smell of her scent intermingled with his. Or was it even before that, when they were children—when he tried to kiss her and she pushed him away, beginning their years of hostility and rivalry? 

Lucius breathed in deeply again, afraid of the day when the scent would no longer linger as it had for so long. This was all his fault; he knew that. So many things in their relationship were his fault. He was the one who had ignored her for so long, who had kept their hostility alive, who had maintained that he could never love the woman his parents had chosen for him. He was the one that mucked things up just as she was starting to fall for him. He was the one that had run away from what he felt for her. And now, he was the one who had caused this, he was the one who was responsible for the loss of his wife. He has done what he had always promised her he would never do—he had put something before his family.

It was a mistake that Lucius would do anything to take back, because as he lay here, on the bed he had shared with his wife just last night, Lucius knew that he couldn’t live without Narcissa. It had taken him nearly twenty-three years to realize it, but Lucius Malfoy was nothing without Narcissa Black.

Lucius heard the figure behind him finally leave, but he remained where he was, frozen in an avalanche of realizations-come-too-late. As he thought back on the past that they had shared and the struggles that they had overcome to reach where they were, Lucius Malfoy realized for the first time that this moment—and all that had led to this moment—had less to do with a decision that Abraxas Malfoy and Cygnus Black had made when he and Narcissa were seven and more to do with fate. 

It was decided that they would be married; it was destined that they would fall in love.


	2. A Black Christmas and a Walk

**2\. A Black Christmas and a Walk**

** Christmas Day, 1971**

Sighing heavily, Narcissa Black threw herself back on her bed and glared mutinously at the ceiling. Her mother’s icy reprimand echoed in her ears, causing her fists to clench. 

“She’s right, you know,” a voice from across the room remarked.

Propping herself up on her elbows, Narcissa glared at the painting that hung on the wall facing her. “You’re supposed to be on my side, great-grandmother!”

The portrait that memorialized Violetta Black (nee Bulstrode) sniffed defensively. “In most things, my dear, I am happy to take your side. In this, however, I agree with your—“—she said this next word with a nose wrinkle of disgust—“mother.”

Narcissa sighed dramatically and threw herself back down on the bed with her usual flair. “Thanks a lot,” she muttered darkly.

Violetta had no patience for Narcissa’s tantrums, and she made that quite clear. “You come from a respectable pureblood family, young woman. You have no use dating when you are betrothed—especially when the one you are dating is NOT your betrothed.” She made it quite clear from the tone of her voice that she disapproved of Narcissa’s behavior.

“But I don’t WANT to marry Lucius Malfoy!” Narcissa moaned, sitting back up to look at her great-grandmother.  

Violetta’s gaze softened as she looked at her pretty young granddaughter. Narcissa’s blonde hair was unusually out of order from throwing herself so dramatically on the bed, and her blue eyes were sharp, mostly masking the sliver of pain that lingered from her mother’s verbal assault. Her slim figure barely dented the bed, and her long tanned legs stretched out in front of her, one foot crossed over the other. Her hands were planted on the bed a few inches away from her, and she leaned back, using them to support herself. “I didn’t want to marry your great-grandfather, and Cygnus and I turned out to be very happy,” Violetta said softly, a nostalgic smile spreading across her painted face. 

“And Father didn’t want to marry Mother and look how that turned out!” Narcissa countered. When Violetta said nothing, Narcissa threw out her hands as if she had proved her point.  

Before Violetta could think of something to say, someone knocked gently on the door. “Go away!” Narcissa called, throwing herself back down on the bed. She rolled her eyes as the door opened slowly and muttered something about no one in this house listening to her.

Narcissa’s older sister Andromeda poked her head in the room, her dark eyes finding her sister’s figure on the bed. “Cissy?” She called out softly, her tone hesitant.

Narcissa sighed at the sound of her sister’s voice. “Go away, Andromeda.”

Andromeda ignored her younger sister and stepped inside, her thin figure slipping through the door and her long arm reaching out to push it closed behind her. Her long brown hair fell past her shoulders in waves, and her bangs hung over her forehead as if they would hide her from sight. “Cissy, please don’t be mad at me,” Andromeda pleaded quietly as she stepped forward across the room to the side of her sister’s bed. “It’s Christmas.”

Narcissa sat up and looked at her sister, her eyes cold. “Yes, it’s Christmas and I spent the last hour and a half being lectured by Mother for not acting like a proper pureblood young woman.”

“Finally your mother does something right,” murmured their great-grandmother’s picture from across the room. Growling, Narcissa picked up a pillow from her bed and hurled it at the painting, causing it to become lopsided on the wall. With a huff, Violetta Black disappeared from her painting, likely to reappear in another painting somewhere in the house.

“She’ll give you the silent treatment for a week for that,” Andromeda remarked with a smile. 

Stubborn as she had always been, Narcissa refused to crack a smile at her sister’s attempt. “I’m still mad at you.”

Andromeda sat down on the edge of the bed with a sigh. “Cissy, you have to believe that I didn’t mean for that to happen. I didn’t know Bella would tell Mother,” she explained honestly. 

Narcissa crossed her arms and resisted the urge to roll her eyes again. She knew that Andromeda probably only said something to Bella in order to get Bella off her own back, but Narcissa didn’t appreciate that Meda’s way of saving herself was to throw Narcissa under the bus. “What makes you think Bella would approve of my dating Raphael?” 

Andromeda bit her lip guiltily. She hadn’t meant to let slip news of Cissy’s love life to their older sister, but when Bella had begun questioning her about her own betrothed, it was the only thing she could think to say to distract Bellatrix. Andromeda was terrified that Bella would find out about Ted, and she wasn’t ready to face the consequences of that just yet. “I—I didn’t think,” she admitted, hanging her head.

“Well, _that’s_ obvious,” Narcissa said scornfully. She was silent for a moment, brooding, before she rounded on her sister. “You know what’s really annoying, Andromeda?” She asked rhetorically, dropping her sister’s nickname. “I would never tell Bella about your extracurriculars of a certain muggleborn, even though I don’t approve!” She knew Andromeda better than almost anyone, and she knew that Meda’s ‘tutoring sessions’ with that bloody Hufflepuff were far more than Meda would let on. 

 

Andromeda looked up at her sister, remorse clear in her expression. “I know, Cissy. I’m sorry. I—I shouldn’t have thrown you under the bus like that.” She turned to face Narcissa fully. “Please forgive me Ciss?” 

Narcissa couldn’t stop the smile that peeked out at the sound of Andromeda’s nickname for her. “Of course,” she said. “I could never stay mad at you, Meda.” 

As she spoke, her bedroom door creaked open again, and the oldest Black daughter stepped inside, not bothering to close the door behind her. She strode to the center of the room, her posture tall and proud. Of all the Black sisters, Bellatrix was the shortest, but the way she held herself made her seem like the tallest. Bella had a confidence in herself that her sisters lacked, especially Andromeda. Whenever she walked into a room, all eyes were drawn to her, and she liked it that way. She was a very powerful witch, and all those around her knew it. Unfortunately, she could also be quite cruel, a fact that was well known around the halls of Hogwarts, even three years after her graduation.

 

Bella’s dark eyes took in the sight of her two sisters sitting on Narcissa’s bed together and her thick lips gave them a small sneer. “What are you two doing in here? Girl talk and nail painting?” She teased with a disdainful tone.

“No, actually, we were talking about our traitor of a sister,” retorted Narcissa with an identical tone to Bella’s. 

Bella looked up at the ceiling and sighed. “Don’t be dramatic, Cissy. It was for your own good.”

Narcissa’s sharp eyes narrowed. “You thought that setting Mother on me on Christmas Day was for my own good? Bella, you know she hardly needs a reason to be angry with me. Why did you have to go and give her one?” 

Bella ignored the pain that her youngest sister had failed to disguise in her voice. It was time for Narcissa to grow up and become stronger. The best way to foster that was to ignore the pain that she knew her sister felt from their mother’s lack of approval. “You have a duty to your family, Narcissa. It’s about time you started figuring that out.” 

“Bella—“ Andromeda began with an overprotective tone to her voice. 

 

Bella’s eyes narrowed as she met Andromeda’s gaze. “Don’t you start. You need to learn that lesson just as much as our baby sister does.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Andromeda asked defensively, automatically beginning to put up the walls that she had become so good at building.

“Don’t think I don’t know about all the time you’ve been spending with that filthy mudblood Tonks!” Bellatrix spat, looking at her sister with a disdainful look that Narcissa had never seen Bella give to Andromeda.

From behind Andromeda, Narcissa could see her older sister clench the blankets into her hands in panic, but she watched as Meda kept a mask of calm indifference on her face and held Bellatrix’s gaze. “I’m just tutoring him,” Andromeda explained calmly. “Professor McGonagall asked me to and I agreed for extra credit.” 

Bella barked a laugh. “Tutoring? Is that what they’re calling it now?” She took a step forward, giving her sister a dark look.

Anticipating that Bella was about to say something that she couldn’t take back, Narcissa stood up and moved between her sisters. “Stop it!” She screeched, looking between them. “Both of you! It’s Christmas! Can you go five bloody hours without tearing each other’s heads off?” 

Bella stepped back suddenly, her eyes landing on a picture of the three Black sisters that hung above Narcissa’s bed. It had been taken before any of them had gone to Hogwarts, when the three were inseparable. In the picture, the three had their arms wrapped around each other with Narcissa in between Andromeda and Bellatrix. The figures in the picture were moving, alternating between laughing and hugging each other and striking a pose where Bella and Meda were kissing either of CIssy’s cheeks. For a short moment, a vulnerable look flashed across her face before the calm and cool Black mask slipped back on. “You should both come downstairs. It’s time for dinner and you know Mother doesn’t like to be kept waiting.” Smoothing her skirt and straightening her shoulders, she turned and walked from the room, shutting the door behind her. 

Andromeda stood up and turned to her sister, opening her mouth to say something. Before anything came out, she changed her mind and closed it, turning away and following Bella from the room. Sighing, Narcissa sat back down on the bed and gazed longingly at a picture above her bed. “What happened to us?” She whispered in a broken voice, shaking her head before standing up and composing herself. The last thing she needed was for her mother to perceive any weakness in her during dinner.  

 

* * *

 

 

Lucius Malfoy inhaled slowly, the crisp winter air filling his lungs and burning his nose. Snow intermingled with pebbles crunched under his boots and his cloak flared out behind him, not latched at his neck like it was meant to be. The white flesh of his neck was exposed, but he didn’t notice the chill that the woman next to him was pulling her cloak tighter to avoid. 

Lucius looked over as he noticed her, a look of concern flashing across his pointed marble face. “Are you too cold, Mother?” He asked softly, his low-pitched voice gentle in a way it only was with her.

Aria Malfoy was very attractive for her age, though of course as a pure-blooded witch, age didn’t mean a lot when it came to looks. She had the same white-blonde hair as her son, and she shared many of his sharp facial features, though her eyes were a deep hazel rather than green. She was nearly seven inches shorter than his six feet, and she had to crane her neck to meet his eye. Despite her petite stature (if you could call 5’5” petite, which you could only seem to do with Aria Malfoy), she carried herself in such a way that when she was angry, her cold fury could make the tallest person feel as if she was towering over them. Her hands, tucked into her son’s elbow, were the hands of a woman who had never worked a day in her life, and her long, thin fingers were covered in heavy rings. In short, Aria Malfoy was everything that a respectable pureblood woman should look—graceful, poised, elegant, and exceedingly attractive. 

 

Aria gave her son a warm smile. “I’m fine, dear."

“Are you sure? I know you don’t like the cold.” Lucius pressed. He himself was used to it. As a Slytherin, he spent most of his time in the dungeons, where their common room was located. Of course the common room was far warmer than the rest of the Hogwarts houses speculated, but the corridor leading to the common room was always frigid no matter the time of year. Aria Malfoy, unlike her son, had attended Beauxbatons, and no matter how long she lived in England, she never could seem to get used to the cold. 

“I’m sure, Lucius,” she responded softly, closing the subject. Yes, she was cold, but she didn’t want to end this walk until she revealed the reason she was out here with her son in the first place. 

There were a few moments of silence as the pair circled the large garden of the Malfoy estate, but Lucius had a feeling that his mother was only building up to something. These walks between them weren’t uncommon, but he couldn’t remember a time when she had braved the cold for them at the beginning of January, so he supposed that she must have some reason. 

To an outsider, Aria Malfoy would have seemed as composed as she usually was, but someone who knew her as well as her husband and son did would have been able to see the hesitation that seemed to plague her now as she tried to decide the most delicate way to bring up her topic of choice. With an inaudible sigh, she leaned into Lucius’ shoulder. “How are things with your housemates?" 

If Lucius had an idea of where this conversation was headed, he didn’t show it. “They’re fine,” he said, his voice normal and even. “Yaxley has been studying a lot more this year. His father was furious that he didn’t get O’s in all of his OWLs last year. Rookwood’s been a bit distracted by his new girlfriend. Crabbe and Goyle are as thick as ever,” he paused with a chuckle, and Aria couldn’t help but join in.

“Oh, Lucius, that’s no way to speak of your friends,” she mock scolded. “Though privately, I agree with you."

Lucius laughed at his mother’s confession, his grey eyes filling with a warmth that wasn’t always present.

Aria hesitated for the slightest moment before pressing him. “And Narcissa?"

Confusion flicked across Lucius’ face, and he forced himself not to halt in surprise. “Narcissa? What about Narcissa?” 

Aria couldn’t tell if he was genuinely confused or trying to avoid the subject. Sometimes he was so difficult to read, but as infuriating as it could be, she knew it was better that way. It meant they had raised him well. She gave a small smile. “She is your betrothed. I was wondering…hoping, really…that something has changed since the last time we talked about her."

Lucius tried to hide the annoyance that turned his lips at the subject, but he knew that his mother saw right through it this time. “Mother, she’s still an insufferable self-absorbed prig. Nothing’s changed."

Aria’s smile widened, and she was suddenly glad that Lucius was staring straight ahead as they continued on the path back towards the manor. “I wonder what words she uses to describe you,” she remarked knowingly, amusement clear in her tone.

“Mother, I know what you’re trying to do,” Lucius’ tone was accusatory. Conversations between himself and his parents about Narcissa Black had been happening more recently in the past couple of years, and he supposed that he should have known that was what his mother wanted to discuss when she had suggested a walk in the gardens. 

When Aria spoke next, her voice was strained, though before it had been light. “I just want to see you happy, Lucius,” she said softly. “I want you to find a love like I’ve found with your father."

Lucius bit back the scornful laugh that tried to escape his lips, knowing that it would hurt his mother’s feelings. “Then you shouldn’t have decided who I would marry when I was still in diapers."

“You weren’t in diapers. You were seven.” She paused. “It worked for me,” she continued, her tone pleading in a way that he rarely heard it. Aria Malfoy was far too dignified to beg, but she was a great deal closer now than she had ever been. 

“Mother, you loathed Father at first. You though he was—"

“—an arrogant toerag, yes, I know,” Aria said with a laugh. “But I was wrong, was I not? Now I don’t think there’s anyone that could make me happier. Your father and I just want you to find that same thing, Lucius.” 'And we think you could have it with Narcissa’, she wanted to add, but she didn’t.

“Well I’m not going to find it with Narcissa Black." 


End file.
